I’m definitely not perfect but I always felt that boyfriends that come up to you when you’re talking to their gf and hold her, kiss her etc, were faggy so I never did that shit. I always felt like I was the 10 and she was the 7 and infidelity was unlikely. I was also young/fit. Looking back I turned into a bit of a chump on the 3 real dimes I had. Those lasted <1 year. 🙂

What CA Expat describes in all its awful repugnance is the Beta Sidle. The possessive “sidle” is the kind of mate guarding behavior that insecure beta males do. It’s a passive form of benefit provisioning doubling as a warning to interlopers, but it reeks of lsmv desperation. Alpha males (or higher T men) who must lay claim to a woman in public prefer the more direct confrontation (against either the man or the woman).

The Beta Sidler…you know the type. He’s the guy who will, at the most awkwardly inopportune times, sidle up to his girl and lay gentle romantic pats on her like a puppy pawing at its owner for food. Maybe he’ll wrap his arm around her while she’s talking to you, and nuzzle her neck. The worst of the sidlers will try to reach for her hand and hold it, intertwining fingers and imploring her to “come over” and join him as soon as she’s ready. He’s doing all this in the time frame it took you to say hi to her and to ask how she’s doing.

Unsurprisingly, BMMG behavior this uxorious is rarely a turn-on for the girl at the receiving end of it, and for the third party man it’s enough to laugh out loud and make fun of the dude to the girl’s face when he’s out of earshot. I’ve mocked these goobers, usually saying something like “wow, your guy really likes you. I don’t think you’ll have trouble keeping him for yourself.”

A girl of course doesn’t like hearing that her man is a slave to her pussy who would die an incel if she ever left him, so this leetle poke and prod of her hamster that I do will ripen her to consider the very infidelity her betaboy tries so hard to thwart.

not to be confused with girls who are all over you in public, strangely when you’re all around other girls.

I had a gf back in my beta days say that I always had my chest puffed out when we were out partying, like I was trying to intimidate guys from talking to her. weird. I think I thought at the time that that’s what you were supposed to do. she called me a nerd and left me soon

Yes, and the best BF Destroyer Game has plausible deniability. You don’t just say “you’re bf is a little bitch lol”. You say stuff that a blue-pilled passerby would think is you talking the boyfriend up! Like: “He obviously loves you so much”, “He’s a nice guy… seems comfortable with you” “You would never have to worry about him cheating on you”

It can also be evil. You can turn a steady if imperfect relationship into a sinking ship. So spiking a guy’s Beta Levels to a girl is sort of a dick thing to do unless you have a real reason (like revenge, or the girl is of high importance to you)

I have been guilty of sliding. You can catch yourself, but only after your prize is lost. OT. I am about to have my first child which is a male. I would like for you to produce a book for him to read on game and the behavior of women. I can take care of the hunting and identify politics.

Congrats. He might like a brother. In the world of his adolescence and adulthood,the most important possession a man will have is someone he can trust to have his back. Blood doesn’t guarantee that, but it goes a long way.

I just bought that book and read it in the last couple weeks. I love Rollo’s blog but it didn’t really translate very well to the book format. It just didn’t flow. You could tell it was basically copied and pasted from the blog. It was kind of out of order and jumped around a lot. He discussed some important concepts (like Oneitis) early in book but didn’t really lay the groundwork for understanding them until later in the book. His chapter on Hypergamy for example is 180 pages into the book. That should be on page 1.

He tries to explain the abbreviations and manosphere lingo as he goes but it just comes off kind of clunky.

Again, I’m a big fan of TRM. I think the “Preventative Medicine” posts contain some of the most helpful explanations of female behavior in existence. I had high hopes this book would be the magic bullet to recommend to blue or purple pill friends but it just isn’t.

I often had the exact opposite of “Beta Sidling” – I’d take a chick out on a date and get so d@mned bored with her that I didn’t even care if the other dudes wanted to dance with her.

Ch!cks l0ve dancing. I hate it. When I was younger I had to get seriously drunk before I felt like doing the White Boy Shuffle.

But as I get older, I realize that “dancing” is just another one of those idiotic things that you have to do with chicks, like Non-Sequitors & Negs & Radio Silence & Dread Game & Anger Game and all the rest of the horsesh!t waste-of-time nonsense that these high-maintenance thots require.

The sad fact of the matter, however, is that women WANT to be entertained by you.

They want you to be the center of attention. They want you to be the Master of Ceremonies. They want you to make them laugh. They want you to whisk them off their feet. They want Johnny Carson & George Carlin & Fred Astaire & Gene Kelly from you.

God I hate that sh!t – trying to summon up the energy to be the toast of the party.

Just give me a nice meal & some drinks & some convo & then lets go phuck on the hood of my pickup truck out in the parking lot.

Dancing. Yes, this will be the subject that I choose to make my first comment on after years of browsing at this site. A confession; I must dance. The player must play, the beta must hover, and I must dance. It is a curse, but I have learned much from my affliction. To wit:
Women don’t really like to dance. There are a number of ways to demonstrate this.
One, sign up for a ballroom dance class at your local community college with the next woman who says she likes to dance. After several weeks of instruction your partner will discover that dance is work and she will want to want to quit.
Two, take the professed dancer to a club early. When there is a medium crowd in the club but no one is on the dance floor take her hand and walk her to the dance floor. When she comes to a screeching halt at the edge of the dance floor proceed out by yourself and dance at least two songs by yourself. BTW this only works if you can actual dance or have huge stones. Also, if you call her bluff and she comes out anyway, she’s in to you.
Three, take her to a gay club. It’s just like a strait dance club except no one is trying to pick her up. Nothing confuses the hypergamy like this one. If she is normally kind of a bitch at a regular club she will bend over backwards to make sure that the gay dudes love her. What she won’t do at the club is dance.

Have to disagree with the good Captain. xxI have zero expectation of being entertained from women. Never expect “a pleasant conversation” from them. Every female xxI’ve ever met — say, 40,000 to 80,000 in xxmy lifetime — has been a piece of shit in the talking department, with their too-smooth aircraft arrival announcing voices (“I — am — so — glad — I — got — a — 7:35 — bus.”) and their stories which have been accepted and vetted by ALL their friends so none of them are interesting. When xxI date, xxI entertain myself (and her) through XXMYSELF and ONLY XXMYSELF. xxI live for xxMe, not any other permutation.

You are right that women want a man to entertain them. Or distract them. And in historical context that is okay. She has six k1ds by you and has just hung out the washing and is coming in to fix dinner. Least you can do is use a pet name for her – she is after all your woman, your bauble, your button-sewer, your one true pumpkin – historically it doesn’t matter what you say, or how you make silly fun of her. It is the attention.

The trouble is that all of these things are in fact good and are meant to bind a man and a woman but the world of today is so far from natural, all of these natural and beautiful things seem to have no rhyme or reason.

“And in historical context that is okay. She has six k1ds by you and has just hung out the washing and is coming in to fix dinner. Least you can do is use a pet name for her – she is after all your woman, your bauble, your button-sewer, your one true pumpkin – historically it doesn’t matter what you say, or how you make silly fun of her. It is the attention.”

VD nails it. entertaining a woman in today’s world of infinity entertainment and infinity immediate gratification, where every decent woman basically has the option to live and be treated as royalty is 100,000,000,000,000,000% ass-fucking-, upwards-, inwards-, and backwards.

contrast is king. so if every other guy wants to entertain her by being a dancing monkey, show her what an austere life on the prairie looks like. and how she responds to that will tell you everything you need to know about how much to invest in her.

ie, if her idea of a good time is pulling an oar for the team then she’s probably a keeper. and if she can’t sit still for two seconds without wondering when your next parlor trick is coming then she’s still got A LOT of growing up to do before she’s relationship material.

Gunslinger, I’ll bet that our Games are very similar – a lot of spirituality – and if the “The Spark” ain’t there [between you & da ho], then nothing but nothing but nothing is gonna spur you to rise to the occasion.

a pleasant conversation that you can get in rare instances,,
interesting one not so much unless you turn it in one man show
but you got tired of that after a few dates
then you switch to autopilot mode by asking something like how was your day today upon witch you switch off your listening devices
while she is evoking all banalities of the day without even a slightest attempt to inject a bit of comedy or poetry into it you do something crazy like counting the number of Mensheviks before the October revolution
Once I was at 13564 when she said -but you are not listening at all
upon which I said of course I am, perhaps it looks as If I was counting Mensheviks but in reality I am all ears

I like dancing and will actually go out to dance and can get a good night just out of that. Don’t even need to drink. Of course music choices are a personal thing but if you get a woman back to your house and put on something suitable it’s a very nice way to move into fucking.

And I don’t even have to do any nigger moves much less “White Boy Shuffle”. What is that? Is that something you got from the electric jew? Turn that shit off, man. Pls, step back from the Talmudic hypnosis machine.

I like dancing and will actually go out to dance and can get a good night just out of that.

This^

Dancing is basically my go-to. Step out on the floor where it’s usually nothing but women… and start busting a move. In the span of a single song, I can look around and see at least 2-3 girls eyeing me and getting curious. From there all I have to do is choose which one to say “you look like you can afford to buy me a drink” and it’s game on.

S, as I get older, it feels moar like a test of PSYCHOLOGICAL fitness – can you grit your teeth, suck it up, head out there onto the dance floor, and do the White Boy Shuffle when you’re stone cold SOBER?!?!?

Vagina Dominator hit the nail on the head. I used to hate “dancing”. To just go out on a dance floor and try to move around to the music while everybody laughs at you is fucking miserable. I would have to be super hammered drunk to have any fun whatsoever doing that. The thing is, that isn’t real dancing. That is a bastardized feminized niggerized version of dancing. And it is a fucking shame that is the only thing the vast majority of people in our culture will ever know as dancing.

IT DIDN’T USED TO BE LIKE THAT.

I caved in a couple months ago to my wife’s repeated requests to take a dance class. We learned the East Coast Swing. It’s fun! Really fun. You learn the basic steps then add in moves of increasing complexity as you get more comfortable. It isn’t the garbage feminized pozzed niggerish “do whatever you feel” dancing of clubs. You lead your woman and she follows. You take her on an adventure. She doesn’t know what you’re going to do and just loves getting twirled around and being guided by a confident man.

I never understood why old people loved to “go dancing”. I could never imagine my grandparents twerking and grinding and shit. It’s because they didn’t. They actually danced.

Dancing, real dancing, is a beautiful attribute of white culture and must be preserved. Not just by faggots, but by men.

There is pussy to be slayed at dance classes. There are pretty young women there and the only guys there are metro sexual skinny jeans wearing soyboys and fags. If you go in there with an actual chest and some biceps you will have your pick of the litter.

It takes about 10 minutes to get over the initial discomfort of having never done it before but after that you’ll be gold.

All young couples should take Ballroom dancing classes… it’s one of the few “activities” that couples can actually share that is fun for both. After the basic foxtrot, waltz and swing, take the next level South American and also learn the cha-cha, tango, and rhumba.

The only issue is afterwards there are clubs that hold dances a few times a year for these genres, but they’re usually older folks… not really the scene for twenty-somethings… or they tend to be pricey and swanky milieux.

After Dynasty (which is a timeframe archeologists should consider adopting) Alexis will always be a woman’s name.

Looking him up, I see he is now known for being one of the Security services front men for Reddit. Checking Wiki we see the usual hyperfast child prodigy expedited success out of nowhere with who-knows-where-the-money-came -from backing.

He has a zillion globalist (gobble-ist?), security services red flags. One of the worst is his involvement with “microfinance”, a globalist scam to get people used to being indebted and financialized – and to break up village family life by depowering men as breadwinners – right down to the very smallest villages in the third world.

This disgusting soyboy not only wears a beard, he is a beard. He was obviously cloned in the same globohomo robot factory as that embarrassing faggot Trudeau.

This breeding with the gorrilla queen of Wakanda is just virtue signaling agitprop and a cover story for the fact that he is a gayfag cockgobbler and she was behind the murder of Dianne Fossey..

You don’t need to be on the defense, when you’re on the offense. You should be chatting up other gals, she will be too tired following you around and filled with anxiety to say more than a hello to a would-be interloper.

The worst BMMG I’ve ever seen was a skinny guy who very obviously was mate guarding his land whale girlfriend across the street from the train station to the steakhouse. He had one arm around her shoulders and one on her waterfall of suet. He constantly looked around, nervously, as if someone would be interested in that thing. She grinned from ear to ear, ignoring Jack Sprat; her eyes were transfixed on the restaurant where a 36 ouncer was waiting for her.

My buddy is this way with his wife and we all find it disgusting. Never had a term for it, but Beta Sidle is a good one. He’ll interrupt her mid sentence to say, “you’re so beautiful” and kiss her. The most awkward and crestfallen he’s ever looked was when I finally said, “Come on, man, let the poor girl a finish a sentence and then you can keep slobbering all over her.”

Tell ya what, eggnog… admit you’re a sock for the banned t-o-m-j-o-n-e-s… who never seems to miss a beat propping up your dreck with likes, go figger… and I’ll declare a week’s moratorium on slapping you around in Cyberia.